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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28193331">Aziraphale vs Karen</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaytheJay/pseuds/KaytheJay'>KaytheJay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ableism, Ableist Slur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:28:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,102</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28193331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaytheJay/pseuds/KaytheJay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A woman comes into Aziraphale's shop, and she is not happy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Aziraphale vs Karen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello hello and welcome to day 20 of my Countdown to Christmas! This is my last non-Christmas fic of the year! </p><p>Fair warning, I do use the r slur in this fic, so if that is something you are not comfortable with, go ahead and click off (and that is why I tagged this as ableism). </p><p>This fic may or may not just be a measly retail worker trying to vent in a way that I’m sure anyone who has ever worked in a “the customer is always right” job will understand. </p><p>Tomorrow starts my Christmas themed fics, so there’s that to look forward to.</p><p>Anyway, I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was a peaceful morning. Nice and quiet. He didn’t have anything to do, so he figured that he may as well open the shop. It had been a few days since he’d been open anyway. Trying to recover from the events of the last few months and everything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one came in for the first hour, though Aziraphale was more than ok with that. He did have odd hours so it was quite possible that people who wanted to come in weren’t even aware that he was open. He was perfectly ok with that. It gave him the chance to mill around the shop and pretend to be being productive. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heard the door slam open. He looked up and a woman walked in. He smiled. A customer. That would give him something to do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where is the manager!” She hollered from the door. She stomped her way in and began looking down the aisles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” Aziraphale greeted. “How may I be of assistance?” The woman looked him up and down and rolled her eyes. There was no way that </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the man in charge. Perhaps, though, she could intimidate him into finding the actual manager. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I came here the other day and the door was </span>
  <em>
    <span>locked</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” The woman said. Aziraphale nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is because we must have been closed the other day,” Aziraphale said. “How can I help you?” The woman shook her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t run a business if you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>closed </span>
  </em>
  <span>all the time.” Aziraphale wished to point out that he wasn’t actually trying to run a business, this was just his side hustle (though with Armageddon and having left Heaven, perhaps it was his </span>
  <em>
    <span>main </span>
  </em>
  <span>gig now). He didn’t, however. He didn’t need her thinking that there was anything odd about him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well, our hours are very clearly marked on the door,” Aziraphale said. “We are open now, is there anything I can help you find or are you just browsing?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is nothing </span>
  <em>
    <span>clear </span>
  </em>
  <span>about that sign.” She ripped it off the door and handed it to him as if Aziraphale wouldn’t be familiar with it. “How is anyone supposed to know when to come in with a sign like that?” Aziraphale took the sign without looking at it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I am here offering to help you,” Aziraphale said, trying to keep his patience. “But I cannot be of any help if you do not tell me what you wish to accomplish.” The woman shook her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Unbelievable. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Here she was, pointing out a very large flaw in the system of this stupid shop and he wasn’t going to do a single thing about it? What was this nonsense about? She only had the best interests of the shop at heart. Why wasn’t he taking her more seriously? She sighed. There was something that she felt that this shop could help her with. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is this book . . .” She started. “I don’t remember what it is called or who the author is, but my son really, really wants it. I was wondering if you had it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, of course,” Aziraphale said. “Perhaps I can help you there. Do you know anything about it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s blue,” She said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Blue,” Aziraphale repeated. “As in the cover in blue?” The woman nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Blue and it had some sort of design on it.” Aziraphale rubbed his temples. He should have known this was the kind of customer that she was to be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you knew what it was about perhaps I could help you,” Aziraphale said. “But I can’t really give you anything on the information that you’ve just given me.” The woman rolled her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But you sell books. All you need to tell me is where this book is.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would love to,” Aziraphale said. He put his hand in his pocket and rubbed the watch that was in there to calm himself down. “I really would. But that description of the book does not help me to find it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why the hell are you hiding it from me? There’s literally nothing that does you any good by hiding it from me.” She shook her head. “I’ll just find it myself then if you want to be so useless. I will be calling your manager to tell him about how </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrible </span>
  </em>
  <span>your customer service has been.” She turned her back and wandered down an aisle, muttering to herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale closed his eyes and headed back to the counter. Why were some humans so rude? Especially over something as petty as a book? It was people like this woman who made Aziraphale want to shut the shop down altogether. She had to be aware of how stupid she sounded. Asking for a blue book with a design? How was that helpful at all? Aziraphale could think of at least fifty books with blue covers and designs just off the top of his head. The book she wanted could be any one of those fifty. Or it could be one completely out of his list. He sat down on the stool that he had back there for himself and decided to wait for the woman. As soon as she would leave, he would be closing the shop. Could not go out risking having another customer like this. This one was enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t find it,” She muttered as she came up to the front. “Besides, you’re being lazy. Sitting and everything. I will have you know that I know your manager. He will not be pleased to know that you were sitting around doing nothing.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Funny, my dear, considering this store does not have a manager. It doesn’t even have any employees. It is just me. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have more information on the book? A summary perhaps?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” The woman snapped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry to say it, but I cannot help you if that is the case. There are too many books that it could be based on what you gave me. Could you phone your son and ask him for anything about the book?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No I’m not going to call him,” She said. “He’s in school right now. Supposed to be learning. Maybe he’ll be smarter than you by the time he gets out. End up getting a real job, not stuck in some stupid bookshop with some stupid hours. Even if he were to end up here, at least he’d be able to help a customer find the book she’s looking for.” She shook her head. “Fucking retard.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I beg your pardon?” Aziraphale asked. Not because he hadn’t heard her, he’d heard what she said loud and clear. He just wanted to give her the chance to correct herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So fucking retarded that you can’t even hear properly,” she said.” I called you a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking retard</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She enunciated in a rather dramatic way. “Did you hear me that time?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I did rather,” Aziraphale said. “And if that is how you feel, then I am going to have to ask you to leave.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t do that,” the woman shot back. “I am a </span>
  <em>
    <span>paying </span>
  </em>
  <span>customer.” Aziraphale shrugged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t exactly paid for anything yet,” Aziraphale said. “In fact, you’ve shoved one of the books into your bag and thought that I wouldn’t notice. If you would just hand that to me I won’t get the police involved.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare </span>
  </em>
  <span>you accuse me of such a thing! Why I would-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You would never?” Aziraphale finished for her. He had lost his patience. “Hmm funny, then why do you have </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn</span>
  </em>
  <span> in your purse? You didn’t have that there before.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will call corporate!” The woman said. “Not even just your manager. I am taking this all the way up to corporate.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are more than welcome to try,” Aziraphale said. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>After </span>
  </em>
  <span>you return the book to me.” The lady pulled out her phone and pointed the camera at him. But then she thought better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, yes, I am being harassed,” The woman said into the phone. She glared at Aziraphale. “I’m not sure of the exact address, but I am in the A.Z. Fell and Co. bookshop,” she paused for a moment. “Yup, that’s the one.” She smiled. “Thank you so much,” she said. She hung up the phone and put it back in her pocket. She crossed her arms over her chest. “And now we wait for the police to show up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you want to try to explain to them that you were trying to steal from me, you’re more than welcome to stay,” Aziraphale said. “I know that I have done nothing wrong. “By the way, you are aware that I have security cameras, yes? Footage that the police are </span>
  <em>
    <span>more </span>
  </em>
  <span>than welcome to if they so wish to see it, and it will come down to that. Because you and I both know that I haven’t done anything wrong.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her face faltered for just a moment. Aziraphale knew that she was about to admit that this whole thing was . . . well he wasn’t really sure of what she wanted to get out of this. Public humiliation perhaps? Treating him unkindly was not going to get her anywhere. Not to mention the fact that she had called the police herself, knowing that she was trying to get away with stealing a book. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale would be more than happy to sell her the book if she would just give it to him and ask the price. It was one of the copies of the book that he kept on hand for the sole purpose of selling it. It was one of the newer editions with lots of footnotes in it to explain some of the story to a modern audience. He wasn’t even asking that much for it. Though he suspected that she was only trying to take the book out of spite, not because it was a book that she actually wanted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you realize that once I show them the footage that I have, they will clearly see you taking the book off of my shelf and slipping it into your bag. You still have the right to pick. You can give the book back and I will drop the charges or you can wait for the police and have them do whatever they see fit.” The woman looked at the door and shook her head. She grabbed the book out of her purse and handed it to Aziraphale. Aziraphale smiled. “Thank you very much.” She turned to go. “Have a lovely day ma’am!” As soon as she left, Aziraphale used a miracle to lock the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wandered down a random aisle to find a new spot for this book. The woman didn’t need to know that the reason he knew she’d tried to steal from him wasn’t the fact that he had cameras (he did not, in fact, have them. He didn’t see a need for it), but rather the fact that he was a supernatural being. Each one of his books was marked with a unique miracle that would allow him to know if it had been stolen or if it was in the process of being stolen. He ran his fingers down its spine and renewed the miracle before placing it gently on the shelf. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heard the phone start ringing. He already knew exactly who it was going to be. He really didn’t want to deal with her any more than he already had, but he also wanted to make a point of making sure she knew that she was no longer welcome in his shop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A.Z. Fell and Co. how can I be of assistance?” Aziraphale greeted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Put your manager on,” the woman said, having recognized the voice, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Aziraphale said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call back later then,” she said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it would seem we don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>a manager. Or employees.” He shrugged. “It is just me, it always has been just me. You can try to report my behavior, but you’re reporting it to the person who committed the </span>
  <em>
    <span>atrocious </span>
  </em>
  <span>acts.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m lying? I’m not, my dear. It has always been and always will be just me. That, perhaps, explains my odd hours. Running this shop must fit into </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>busy schedule. It is hard, but it is life. I don’t trust anyone else with my books anyhow.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why you-” Azirpahale hung up the phone. That was enough of that. He wandered upstairs. He had had a terrible day so far. He deserved some cocoa and a book. That sounded like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonderful </span>
  </em>
  <span>afternoon. Just perfect. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hits and kudos mean the world to me. Comments fuel me into next week.<br/>Find me on Tumblr @justanangelandhisdemon and @justademonandtheirangel</p></blockquote></div></div>
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